


Is This Forgiveness or Redemption?

by flotsam45



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, M/M, Written before Civil War, post AOU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flotsam45/pseuds/flotsam45
Summary: After the defeat of Ultron and the dismantling of SHIELD, Bucky returns to Steve to learn more about himself.Revised RP from May 2015.





	

Everything had been televised. How could it not be? With everything that had happened, the floating city in Slovakia and the threats given by Ultron, it had the world in a small spur of panic. But the day was saved, the villain was defeated, or at the very least crept back into the shadows (as Bucky had), and everything went back to as it was. Bucky went back to hiding away in sewers and the backs of trucks, never once staying in once place- the past few weeks were the only time he'd been idle, staying in a small town named Shelbysville to keep an eye on the news, eyes always lighting up just a little when a shaky clip of The Man in battle came along. Not in joy, no- more in interest, in curiosity. The Man-  _ Steve _ , had been on his mind as of late (or, at the very least, more often than usual) with the recent events, his thoughts looping over and over again with no resolve. Who was he? Who was he to Bucky? More importantly, how much did he know about Bucky? If he went by the websites and museum exhibits, apparently quite a lot- "friends since birth" one article had described them, talking on and on about their apparent companionship but never giving any details that could help Bucky. Nothing did. No article, no picture, no description could help to jog his memory. It was just.... _ Him _ . Steve. Steve helped. The  _ real _ Steve helped. Not the one on the magazines, or the TV screens. And, having already tortured enough HYDRA agents to realize the pursuit of knowledge through them was futile, he decided he needed Steve. To see Steve. To talk to Steve. So, naturally, he went about it in the only way he knew possible; breaking into the new Avengers base, fighting and injuring more than a few guards, and ending up in a cell, wrists and ankles cuffed to the arms and legs on the chair, memories about a different situation of a different chair and restrained limbs broken the moment the door opened and his attention snapped to the one who came through.

 

Ever since the take down of the HYDRA-infiltrated-SHIELD, Bucky was never out of Steve's mind. Worry and hope that he'd returned always weighed in his mind, so when he received the news from Nat that Bucky had broken into the new base, he'd sped over to see him. Staff and several agents had tried to stop him, but he had shaken them off and demanded that he be taken to see Bucky. With Natasha behind him, he was taken down to the holding cell where his friend...well, someone that used to be a friend... was being kept. He entered alone, upon his insistence, with Nat and other armed men waiting just outside the door. 

He stepped inside, watching Bucky with an even gaze. He had no way of knowing how stable Bucky's mental state was, if at all, and it kept him on edge. "Hey, soldier." he greeted quietly. "What are you doing in a place like this?" He moved in closer, offering a small and wistful smile.

 

Bucky...was unsure of how to feel. He knew he should have felt relieved somehow- he was finally with Steve in some kind of sense, in an environment that wasn't totally hostile, where the man wasn't his mission and neither were trying to kill each other. But he didn't feel relieved. Actually, the weight that had been on his shoulders for the past several months simply seemed to grow heavier when he entered, speaking in a quiet tone and moving slowly as if he were trying to coax a feral dog. Which Bucky supposed he was, really, though there wasn't much he could do cuffed down to a chair. His eyes scanned for Steve in an instinctive way, analyzing him carefully and taking in what details seemed important. There wasn't much information on him besides the fact that he wasn't carrying a weapon, though somewhere in the back of his mind Bucky hadn't expected him to. He wasn't completely unarmed though- Bucky knew there were soldiers outside, waiting to see what he would do, how he would react. Not that he cared too much- being dead would be a mercy by now, and being beaten hardly affected him as a threat anymore. "To see you," Bucky answered plainly, unsure of how else he should have answered. Something ticked in the back of his mind that that answer possibly wasn't right, as all right answers were rehearsed and beaten into his brain verbally and physically, but he shooed the feeling away as quickly as it came.

 

Steve blinked, a little more than surprised that he'd actually received a response from the man. It probably showed on his face, but it was quickly replaced by a more genuine and happy little grin. "Well, here I am, then. What can I do for you, Buck?" The name slipped out without him noticing until it was already past his lips. As far as he knew, this Winter Soldier didn't take too kindly to being reminded of a past he couldn't remember.

 

He only blinked at the name given, feeling warmth flood through him for a moment before it vanished. After he had saved Steve he had adopted the name Bucky, simply for the fact that it was better than Ghost (he'd called himself that before after hearing it so many times, though HYDRA had always been quick to remind him that he was  _ no one _ ) but it was strange to actually hear himself addressed as such. In the past months he'd only been called 'stranger' or 'buddy' by others who didn't know him, though never Bucky, nor Buck. He decided he liked it. But besides the name, the question was hard to answer, mainly because he was unsure of how to word himself here. With a constantly muddled brain, it was hard to get things out just as he wanted. "It's.....I need...answers." Yes, that was good- he could keep going on that. "About myself. About- about the past."

 

Steve was honestly not sure if he could believe this was happening. He'd been hopeful for so long that Bucky would come find him and try to understand what had happened to him after he'd been captured by HYDRA, but it had seemed like such an impossibility after such a long time, that Steve was having difficulty processing this. Nonetheless, he was nodding, and he desperately suppressed the growing grin coming to his face. "Yeah. Okay." He swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. It didn't make sense that he was becoming so emotional over such a few words, but it was immensely relieving to Steve that Bucky  _ wanted _ to know. "Yeah." he repeated, glancing back to the door, then to Bucky, shackled to the chair. He wanted Bucky out of the cuffs. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door before it opened. Nat walked in just a few paces, and tossed Steve a small key. He caught it deftly, and smiled in thanks to her as the door closed again, the voices of protesting agents once again muffled. Steve looked to Bucky, and held up the key. "You won't freak and go on a rampage if I uncuff you, right?"

 

Steve was getting emotional about this- it was rather easy to see, honestly. Although most of him, calloused by training, couldn't really understand, some part of him tried. They'd apparently been close- of course Steve would be emotional seeing his friend again. Or maybe he was getting emotional because he wasn't seeing his friend again, instead simply a shell of him, a monster. The thoughts turned his mouth sour and made his stomach roll and knot in ways that made him more than uncomfortable, and he pushed it out of his mind as best possible, not even noticing Natasha entering, only regaining himself when she was walking out the door again, her red hair indicating who it was almost immediately. He swallowed thickly at the notion of him going on an actual rampage, killing the men outside, killing Steve, eyes wide as his mind conjured up the image of the only man with answers dead at his feet, others there as well, limp and lifeless. It didn't help that there was a voice hissing to him where all of Steve's weak spots where- who he could knock him down, punch him twice in that weak spot on his ribs, bash his head on the floor until he went unconscious, until bits of bone and blood poured out. "I don't know." He said evenly, eyes wide with the horror playing in front of him.

 

For some reason, the perfectly honest response got a laugh out of Steve, albeit one without much mirth. "Alright, fair enough." he murmured, walking over to Bucky and unlocking the handcuffs around his wrists. "As a precaution, then. We'll leave those on." he said, nodding down to Bucky's still-restrained-legs. He slid the key into his back pocket, and took a deep breath. He had to remind himself that the man he was standing in front of wasn't Bucky - not entirely, at least. He had to take precautions. It was a necessity. He had to do it. It wasn't his best friend he was leaving shackled to a chair. "Where do you want me to start?" he asked, trying to stop thinking for at least a moment.

 

Images of Steve's murder still played in his head, several other outcomes coming to mind once his hands were unshackled, though at the very least Steve wasn't sentimental enough to think that uncuffing his legs would be a good idea. His mouth became a firm, thin line when the question was asked. "I want you to start before HYDRA." He said, knowing no other way to say it. HYDRA had been his whole, the core of his being, teaching him what he needed to know, how he should act, making him forget and remember and giving him his purpose- to shape the new age of man, to be a gift to the world, to be the weapon that could point blindly at the enemy. Bucky had accepted it all because there had been no other choice- he knew nothing else besides them, besides the freezing cold that came when he was of no use, the stinging slaps and shock of electricity when they needed him pliant again, mind dulled to the point where he would have gladly stabbed out his own eye if they had asked him to. For Bucky, time went before HYDRA, and after HYDRA.

 

"Right, okay, before HYDRA..." Steve hummed. Where was he supposed to start? For him, before HYDRA was...well, a little before he'd gone into the ice and become a - as Stark so humorously put it - Capsicle. Before HYDRA was when Steve was in his own time. Where he belonged. He let out a soft sigh. "Well, we grew up together in Brooklyn, New York, back in the 20's. Back then, I wasn't..." He gestured to himself. "Like this. I was small, scrawny, and a target painted on my back for bullies. But then you showed up, and the bullies weren't a problem after that." He couldn't help but smile to himself. Even if Bucky could no longer remember, these memories were things Steve would keep close to him for the rest of his life. "We became best friends, Buck." He looked at Bucky forlornly before dropping his gaze.

 

Bucky wanted to tell him to skip to something better, as he'd already heard that they'd grown up in Brooklyn, that they'd been friends, but he felt it too rude. Besides, Steve began to talk about their childhood, of how he'd been his protector. How cruel it was that not even a few months ago he'd been beating the life out of him. His guilt only grew when Steve looked down, saddened by the fond memories of a friend who didn't remember them, a friend who wasn't here. His stomach began to tie into tighter knots, making Bucky suddenly feel sick. He hadn't thought about it much- the man he'd been before, James Barnes. But now, with Steve here, he became all too aware of the fact that the body he had was almost someone else’s. There was a sliver of James there, he knew- James would never truly be gone. But Bucky was the majority, and he almost felt like a parasite. Was this even really his body? Could he consider it that at all? Would James be sickened by how many innocent people had died at his hands by Bucky. Anxiety crawling over his skin to the point where Bucky was just barely fighting the urge to scratch at it till the flesh came off under his fingernails, he swallowed past the bile, clenching his hands tightly in his lap where he'd placed them. "Why don't you just kill me?" It slipped out, more of a thought than actual intended words, but he did not take them back. It was an honest question anyways, so Bucky kept going. "I'm not.... _ him _ . There's no reason for you to want me alive. There's no reason I  _ should _ be alive."

 

Steve felt a distinct squeezing in his chest that made it a little hard to breathe. God, what was he even supposed to say? "I...." He coughed. "It's my fault you're like this, you know." he said, his voice weaker than he would have liked. Peggy had once tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault, but he'd never been able to stop believing that it was. "You might not remember being Bucky, but I do, and..." He took a moment to regain some semblance of composure, feeling his voice begin to waver. "And I made Bucky a promise that I'd stick with him no matter what. Till the end of the line."

 

The words should have been comforting. They should have been a relief, some weight lifted away, but it only made it worse, Bucky feeling as though he would soon be dragged down into the very Earth soon enough. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut, the burning memories coming back of him beating Steve, skin purpled and bleeding, repeating in a hoarse voice those very words. And Bucky remembered a vague, watery vision of himself (or not himself), a hand placed on Steve's shoulder, Steve who was small and fragile and stupid and had to be protected, telling him the same, and it  _ hurt.  _ Growling audibly, Bucky shook his head, hands clenched into fists. "But I'm not  _ HIM!"  _ His hands slammed down onto the arms of the chair, the metal squealing as craters were left in their wake, rage and confusion running through him because he was, yes he was Bucky, but he wasn't James, but he  _ was.  _ "It's my fault he's gone!  _ It's my fault!  _ I- he fought so hard  and I was so weak and they wouldn't  _ stop,  _ and now he's gone  _ because of me!"  _ The emotion that came spilling out was intense and painful and too much for Bucky, the man panting and not noticing the way his flesh hand began to bleed because his nails were pressed so hard into the skin, eyes staring ahead and seemingly not noticing the armed men who quickly burst inside because of his violent outburst, guns raised and ready to shoot.

 

Steve would be lying if he were to say he wasn't startled by the sudden outburst. He silently berated himself - he shouldn't have said that. His panic only rose when the men rushed in, yelling loudly at Bucky. Yelling back at them, Steve desperately begged them to stand down, trying to get them to lower their weapons. He instinctively went to put himself between the guns and Bucky. "It's not your fault." he said firmly. "You weren't- you aren't weak." Steve cast an uneasy glance around the room. 

 

Bucky shook his head, and continued to shake it, before Steve was wrong- wringer than he knew. But he couldn't explain it- explain how he was weak enough to let HYDRA pull at his-  _ James' _ strings, how he'd let them make him kill so many people, do so many things, half of which he didn't even remember. The metal gears of his arm whined as they turned, tightening the metal bonds as if preparing for a fight, though he knew it was useless to fight one. Taking a breath, he let it out slowly, almost deflating in his chair as he stared downwards, air whistling out from a port in his prosthetic as he almost went limp, metal hand wrapped around his flesh one hard enough to leave a bruise. 

 

Steve could see Bucky struggling with what HYDRA had done to him, but he could also see that he was coming more under control of himself. Steve let out a soft sigh as he kept his eyes trained on Bucky. "The fact that you came here today, despite everything you've been taught by HYDRA, is proof enough of how strong you are. You  _ want _ to know more about your-...  _ our _ past, right? You could've just run away, and kept running. But you came back. You came because you wanted to face your past - the part of you that you don't know. Am I wrong?"

 

Bucky kept looking at the ground, at his muddy shoes and dirt coated cuffs of his pants, simply listening. Steve was...right. He could have kept running like a coward, scared of his shadow, of his reflection. He could have never come back to Steve, remained hidden until the gauntness of his cheeks and the hollowness of his stomach made him meet his final end. Bucky's eyes slowly lifted to meet Steve's for the first time, searching those blue eyes for any lies, for any deception, but he found none. "No," He answered, shaking his head, because Steve wasn't wrong. The soldiers around seemed to relax as Bucky himself eased a little, letting the blood on his hands dry as he kept the eye contact- not meaning to challenge, of course; it was just strange to see his face when it wasn't on a newspaper or a screen. Fidgeting in his place, Bucky let his eyes flicker around, taking in the men before looking back to his forgotten companion. "...I think....I'm okay." He said after a moment, shoe scuffing against the ground as a sign to uncuff his feet. 

 

When Bucky finally met his gaze, a smile coming to his lips once more, and Steve nodded once. As haunted as his eyes were, there was a certain glint there that reminded Steve of the Bucky he knew years and years ago, and he was glad for it. He knelt down, and felt a strange sense of relief come over him as he unlocked the last of Bucky's restraints, as if it were his own cuffs bing undone. He stood back up, and took a few steps back to give Bucky some room.

 

Bucky waited for Steve to back away before gripping the arms of the chair, taking a breath before getting himself to his feet. Though he had managed to get through the soldiers, most of his energy gone from fighting and the adrenaline wasted away to leave him exhausted. Looking around, a dizzy feeling made him waver a little, though he managed himself just fine (probably from the lack of food, but he was fine). Looking over Steve, Bucky felt the need to do something- the man was just staring at him, of course he would be expecting some kind of contact. But what should he do? A hand on the shoulder? A  _ hug _ ? It seemed like an uncomfortable idea, confined in another's arms, but he supposed it would make Steve feel better friends hugged, didn't they? Moving forwards, his left leg dragging a little from an old wound, he stopped in front of the other, unsure of how to proceed before he awkwardly wrapped his arms around him. He tensed at first, not because it was bad- it was because it felt good. The closeness felt right, the press of another human being who wasn't trying to kill him or vice versa something new and foreign and wonderful, Bucky nearly going limp against Steve with the shock and comfort the action brought him. 

 

Steve hadn't been sure what to expect now that Bucky was free to move as he wished. But he certainly hadn't been expecting a hug of all things. The feeling of Bucky's arms wrapped around him, though... It brought back memories of long ago. Memories of them going out to the cinema as kids, Bucky easily slinging an arm over Steve's scrawny shoulders and dragging him along. Memories of Bucky taking him along to meet girls, as much as Steve hated it. Memories of saying goodbye when Bucky headed off to war before him. Memories of the immense relief he'd felt when he found Bucky alive in the HYDRA base. 

He returned the hug without hesitation, holding Bucky close. He could feel the tension drain from the man, and he breathed out a shaky laugh.

 

He should have let go, really- sentiment wasn't something he was supposed to experience, more or less dwell in, and their hug was reaching beyond the appropriate time for a hug. But he didn't, instead letting his fingers curl into Steve's shirt, metal hand nearly tearing through the fabric of it completely as he kept his chin propped up on the others shoulder, staring at the wall and wondering how many times they'd possibly done this before, how this was Bucky's first, real affectionate embrace, how it was stupid of him to think that if he should ever let go then Steve would just disappear. Letting out a small huff through his nose, unable to produce any other noise, he decided to test the waters further, shifting a little so he could place his forehead on the man’s shoulder instead, mouth set in a firm line and brows drawn together in what would have been considered an angry expression, hadn't it been for the face that his lip was wobbling a little and his eyes watered, though he refused to let any actual tears fall.

 

Steve didn't know how to describe this feeling. It wasn't that he remembered how Bucky's body felt against his - he'd only hugged him a few times - but this familiar feeling was a great comfort. It felt like home. For a moment, he could pretend he was back in a time where he belonged. He brought a hand up and rested it on Bucky's head, absentmindedly stroking his hair. "I've got you, Buck." he murmured. "I've got you."

 

Remaining still as further affection was shown, the gentle petting he received bringing him over the edge, the man blinking once before the tears started to come. He felt the need to apologize for most likely wetting Steve's shirt, but he couldn't get the words out, a lump in his throat making it hard to speak, hard to breath. Little hiccups were the only thing that escaped his lips, and he knew there was discomfort in the room when he heard the gentle scuffle of boots on the ground before the agents were leaving, either of their own volition or Natasha's ushering- it didn't particularly matter to Bucky.

 

Steve's heart broke anew when he heard and felt Bucky begin to cry against him. As far as Steve could remember, Bucky, even before the war, had never been one to show his feelings, much less to this degree. Steve felt his own throat constrict with emotion, sniffling and holding back his tears. He buried his face in the crook of Bucky's neck, sighing. "Thanks for coming back." he breathed, a weak smile on his lips.

 

Bucky was surprisingly alright with Steve on his neck, still holding on tight, trying to think of something to say. Should he joke? Was he even physically capable of making a joke anymore? "Welcome," Was all he said in return, unsure if Steve would take it as a joke or not, though didn't think about it too much, simply enjoying the closeness while he could. Apparently, it wasn't for very long, considering the door opened after another minute or two, an agent poking their head in and seeming uncomfortable (whether with the situation or simply intruding, Bucky didn't take the time to guess). 

 

"Captain Rogers," The agent said, voice quiet- Bucky didn't look up from Steve's shoulder, rather just bringing himself closer to him, though it didn't seem physically possible. "The medical team wants to look at him." There didn't really need any explaining other than that- of course a team would want to look him over, though Bucky knew it was hardly to see if he was healthy. They wanted to see if he would carry a tracker chip on him somewhere, if he turned out to be an agent from HYDRA (though their numbers were greatly dwindling) after all, simply sent as a ploy.

 

Steve was a little irritated by how abruptly they'd been interrupted, and he was reluctant to respond. When he did, he first looked at Bucky. "Is that okay with you?" he asked the man quietly. If Bucky didn't want agents whom it would be difficult for him to trust to look over him, Steve wouldn't make him. If anything, he'd tend to Bucky himself. He couldn't bring himself to believe what the agents were wary of - Bucky being a HYDRA spy. There was a great deal that had changed about the soldier since they'd last fought, and at the very least, he was no longer under direct influence of the evil organization, despite the fact that the problems they'd left behind still remained within Bucky.

 

Done with his crying, settled down into soft sniffling before finally quieting, thinking things over quietly as he continued to cling to Steve, unwilling to let go even to contemplate things. "No." He answered simply, because it wasn't. He didn't want people looking at him, examining him and touching him with cold hands, thinking him the enemy (which he wasn't; he wasn't and was still trying not to be). Besides- Steve most likely wouldn't be able to attend, and if Bucky was being completely honest with himself, it would be a bit hard to control himself properly if the man wasn't there was a mediator in an unknown place like this.

 

Steve nodded, then directed his attention the the agent hovering in the doorway. "Have the medical team send up some supplies to my room. I'll take care of him there." he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. As much as the agent wanted to protest, the man simply nodded and left. 

 

Steve was sure he'd be berated for taking such a big risk with Bucky, but he couldn't bring himself to care too much. "Let's go up to my room, then." he murmured, looking to the man still clinging to him and running a hand up and down along his back.

 

Bucky had managed to loosen his grip some by the time Steve actually addressed him, nodding his head against the other’s chest before collecting himself, feeling a little hollow inside as he took a step back, wiping his with quickly and roughly before he nodded, ignoring the sting from his tears and the slight sniffle still evident in the way he breathed. "Where is it?" He didn't want to be weak-  _ couldn't  _ be weak. He refused to, really. Feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to make things better- he'd learned that throughout his travels to find HYDRA agents.

 

“Upstairs.” was all Steve gave Bucky in response, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” He gestured with a hand for Bucky to follow. He had a distinct urge to take Bucky by the hand, or, at the very least, the arm and lead him along, but Steve was unsure how to go about it, so he didn’t. He made sure that Bucky was no more than a few paces behind him all the while, though. The agents and security officials gave them a wide berth, and Steve was grateful. 

 

Taking the stairs to reach the second floor, he eyed his friend beside him. “So, just where’ve you been all this time?” he asked curiously. “After the disbanding of SHIELD, I mean.” It had been a constant nagging in his mind as to where Bucky had been, and if he’d been safe. He was apparently very good at avoiding any sort of detection, because SHIELD had been unable to give Steve anything substantial at all. 

 

Bucky followed Steve almost automatically, not even needing the hand to show he should. He didn't look to the people who he knew were staring at him with fear or suspicion or shock, simply keeping his eyes on the other man’s back and ignoring them as best as he could, going numb to the world for a few minutes just to handle it (he'd learned that skill a  _ long  _ time ago). Snapping back in when questioned, Bucky looked down, trying to recount it as best as he could. Being constantly wiped and rewiped, put into hyper sleep so many times, had done damage on his medial temporal lobe (he'd gotten one HYDRA agent screaming that word after two days). 

"Mainly Europe," He said evenly. "France, Germany, Russia, Czechoslovakia. Following HYDRA's trail. I came back here only recently." It had been easy staying under the radar, especially with SHIELD practically shattered into pieces, all of their ties to the world cut. And it was also very easy considering he didn't technically exist. That definitely helped on the hiding part.

 

Steve hummed in acknowledgement, a little less surprised than he would have thought he’d be. It made him smile to think how resourceful and careful this man was. 

 

Leading Bucky down the hall and around a corner, he came to a stop at a door, and unlocked it via fingerprint scan. A hiss and a click later, the door swung open, and Steve entered. “Come on in. I haven’t gotten the chance to really settle in, so you’ll have to excuse the boxes.” 

In truth, it wasn’t that he hadn’t gotten around to unpacking into this luxurious room - it was more about not knowing if he should. He could leave it in it’s professional and very Stark-like state, and leave no traces of his own personal life. Like old pictures, mementos, the works. 

 

The furnishing was sparse, but elegant in it’s own way, with certain technological elements hidden and out of the way. A bed, sofa, dining table, and a television mounted on the wall, in addition to the separate bathroom and the corner-turned-minimalistic-kitchen barely gave the impression of ‘home’. 

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, the med team will probably be up in a bit.” he said to Bucky, nodding towards the couch. “Do you want something to drink? Something to eat, maybe?"

 

If Bucky was being perfectly honest, the plainness of the room was what  _ could  _ make it home. He'd always been around simple rooms and steel cells, places with little decoration or sense of individualism anywhere. It was a little sad, of course he knew that, but it was the only thing that seemed familiar to him. Simplicity was something he actually missed; getting a target, killing the target, and being put back into cryo-sleep. Not getting a target, finding the he actually knew the target, and running away from the agency that had practically molded him into the monster he never knew he was. 

 

Seating himself on the couch, Bucky looked down around carefully, sharpened mind immediately tracking escape routes- not that he thought he would need to escape. It was just force of habit. "No," He said automatically, though his stomach clenched angrily at the answer. Bucky ignored it all the same- he wouldn't be taking food till he could trust and understand the environment. "When was SHIELD remade?" He questioned, turning to look to Steve. "Are you all sure you've weeded out HYDRA?" Though he'd made it his personal mission to weed out the agency from the world itself, he could never be sure that this new SHIELD would be any cleaner than the last.

 

"Not too long ago, actually. Just after the whole fiasco with the floating chunk of rock, if you kept up with that news." Steve said, going to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. "We - mostly Tony, actually - have rebuilt this organization from scratch. There wasn't much weeding involved as there were background checks. But the guys we ended up hiring are guys we trust " 

He knew how naive it sounded - they had had every reason to trust SHIELD back before they learned of HYDRA thriving within their own walls. But Steve believed in this new team.

 

Bucky didn't settle even with the news, deciding to remain wary of the organization until it could prove that he should feel anything otherwise. Grunting at the words and wondering if Steve truly knew what he was doing, Bucky shifted uneasily on the couch, not used to being so idle, (though it had barely been two minutes) glancing around the room again. "And your team is bringing down the remainder of HYDRA?" That's what he really needed to know. He'd tried doing it himself, tracking down the agents that were still at least semi on the radar and taking their lives to get information. But that didn't get rid of the whole problem. There were still places he couldn't have gotten to without the proper equipment. He could only hope that the new SHIELD was taking care of the infestation. 

 

Steve nodded firmly, taking slow sips of his water. "That's our first and foremost concern right now. We've been making good progress since Ultron. Better resources, new additions to the team..." He offered a small smile as he took a seat beside Bucky on the couch. He glanced at the man a little more than concerned. He seemed kinda fidgety.

 

Stiffening a little when Steve came beside him, Bucky forced himself to calm, keeping the act of neutrality on his face as he nodded. "New additions?" He questioned. He'd researched the Avengers as much as he could when he had internet access, hacking into certain restricted files about the members, learning all he could. Maybe it was paranoia that drove him to doing it, or maybe it was the simple need and want to learn more about Steve, but he'd learned all he could about them. But new additions...they wouldn't be good. He would have to be careful with them, though he'd have to be careful with everyone. Except Steve. Maybe.

 

"Yeah," Steve nodded, "James Rhodes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, and the Vision." he listed. "The Vision is a ....guy? of Tony's making. Used to be JARVIS. Don't bother asking me for specifics, I don't understand it myself.” Steve said with a shrug. “You probably have seen or at least heard of Rhodey. Again, got him through Tony. Sam is...one of the guys who was with me the last time we fought. And Maximoff is a former member of HYDRA. Now I know that doesn't sound good," he added quickly before Bucky could say anything, "But she's not a bad person. She had her reasons in joining HYDRA, but had an even better one to leave."

 

Bucky made a mental list of the new members, making sure to be wary of The Vision, (machines were unpredictable) and only slightly cautious of Sam and Rhodey (because they were only men, after all). But Maximoff- Maximoff was HYDRA. He tensed immediately, sucking in a breath and letting his hands clench, eyes and expression hardening as he heard and saw Steve almost scramble to give a good reason as to why they would have a former member of HYDRA with them. "Why did you bring her in?” He hissed. “ _ She's HYDRA-  _ there's no former HYDRA, it's just-  _ HYDRA.  _ Your agents want to check  _ me  _ for being an agent when you already have one in your own fold!" His temper rose, the thought of one of  _ them  _ being there, with SHIELD's knowledge, with  _ Steve’s  _ knowledge- "Where is she?" Bucky was already on his feet, feeling much like a feral dog trapped in a small space as he paced around the couch. Because if SHIELD wouldn't deal with this Maximoff, and Steve wouldn't, then he'd have to take matters into his own hands- he'd been doing that for months now.

 

Ah, this want good. He shouldn't have said anything. "Buck, listen to me." He tried to keep his own voice calm and firm. "I need you to calm down, alright?" He stood as well, coming to put himself between Bucky and the door. He understood the man's anger, but Maximoff wasn't HYDRA. Steve knew that much. "She joined HYDRA because she and her brother wanted to fight back against us. Ultron changed that. HYDRA themselves changed that." He could see the rage still there in Bucky's eyes. "Just...sit back down? Please, Bucky. I'll explain, so just... I need you to calm down."

 

"But she's still  _ HYDRA,"  _ Bucky hissed stubbornly, unable to try and wrap his head around the idea of someone from HYDRA.....well, not being HYDRA. He'd only known pain from them, agony and terror and numbness and things he'd rather not think about- there was no one who could deliver pain like that and just come back from it. Just like there was no one who could receive pain like that and come back from it. But he could see Steve was worried for his new 'teammate' and most likely the stability of his new SHIELD, so Bucky forced the anger down for another time, staring at him for a long while before glaring at the ground and moving back to the couch, keeping them on the ground even as someone knocked on the door.

 

Grateful for the control of his emotions, Steve returned to the couch. He wanted to tell Bucky everything - from the start of Ultron, to the end. But before he could, the knock came, and he gave Bucky an apologetic look, before going to answer to the door.

 

Bucky looked up when the door opened to see a pair of people who looked relatively nervous, the women holding a kit that he supposed was the medical supplies. She handed it over to Steve, and he was about to look down when he saw the man grab Steve's shoulder out of the corner of his eye, pulling him close and seeming nervous- nervous enough to whisper, actually. "Captain Rogers," He began, keeping his voice low even though Bucky could clearly hear him. "The whole medical team thinks it would be best if we handled Mr. Barnes for now. We've come to an understanding that he may be....unstable. It would be best if he came with us- just in case there's an.....episode." He said the word softly. Bucky's hands tightened into fists.

 

Steve didn't need to look at Bucky to know these men were only succeeding in angering him further. And to be honest, Bucky wasn't the only one getting angered and offended. Still, he put on a confident smile, and casually brushed the man's hand off of where it rested on his shoulder. "No disrespect to the whole medical team, but I will stand by my previous statement and insist that I be the one to examine and take care of this man." he said flatly. "I assure you that the best way to trigger an "episode" with him would be to anger him." He sent glance over to Bucky. "And I'm pretty sure that's all you guys would be able to do. I appreciate the thought, though." He patted the man on the back, and without another word, pushed them out of his room, shutting the door firmly in their faces. 

 

Sighing heavily, he looked down at the kit in his hands, then turned back around and returned to Bucky. "Let's take a look at you, then." he said, forcing a little cheer into his voice. He had to - the fact that the other agents insisted on treating Bucky like he was still working for HYDRA made him so angry.

 

Bucky watched as Steve closed the door, eyes tracking him as he went to sit down, scanning the opened kit carefully and checking the contents, though he tried to make himself at least a little less nervous. He placed his hands on his lap, trying to think of what Steve would actually need to look at. "The wiring in my arm needs work," He said, moving the prosthetic a little. "I'm more than sure I have at least," Bucky carefully touched his side as he looked down thoughtfully, not even wincing when he put pressure down on the skin. "....two broken ribs. Or broken  _ healing  _ ribs. Possible damage to the left leg and right arm." He spoke in a clipped, medical manner, no real emotion to his voice. He'd given reports on his physical health to his handlers after missions- this was hardly any different. Steve wanted to know what was wrong, so Bucky would tell him.

 

Steve listened carefully, grimacing as Bucky listed off his injuries so nonchalantly. "Right... Okay, I don't think I can do much about your arm, but I can take a look at your other arm and leg, if you'd like." he offered, nodding towards it. He made a mental note to ask if Tony could work on the metal arm, and would ask Dr. Cho to look at his ribs at a later time. "Show me where the damage is?"

 

Bucky decided that the leg would be best, rolling up his baggy jeans to his knees and to show off the crude wrapping. He had been running out of supplies and being precise with everything wasn't a top priority on his list, so he didn't really mind. The bandage itself looked more yellowed than white, a red staining slicing down his calf, though it had begun to crust over- the wound was relatively new, and Bucky knew the bleeding had stopped (otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to make it to the base, more or less fight anyone while getting through).

 

"Wow, okay." Steve said, breathing out. He glanced up at Bucky's expression and watched it carefully as he peeled away the old bandages. As he got through the layers, he slowed his movements, trying to be gentle as he removed the cloth from where it was stuck on the wound. 

It was an ugly cut, and it really didn't look so good. Taking the disinfectant out of the kit, he poured a bit onto a bit of it onto a cotton pad, and began to dab it along the wound.

 

Bucky only flinched a little at contact, though showed no other sign of discomfort, simply sitting and watching as Steve cleaned the wound with disinterest. "It's not that bad." He said after a moment with a small shrug. It was true- he'd had far worse before, though he supposed the swelling and infection made it look a bit bad. 

 

Steve raised an eyebrow at him dubiously, but shook his head with a snort of a laugh, resuming the first aid. "Sure, I suppose it's just the angle that makes it look like it's worthy of attention from a proper doctor." he said good naturedly.

 

"Had worse," Bucky shrugged a little, brows furrowing for a moment at the fact that Steve had laughed before his expression settled again, letting him clean the wound. He was silent for a moment, thoughts running through his head before one seemed to stick with him, making the man nervously run his tongue over his lips, fingers twitching a little. "What happened to Pierce?" He questioned, voice even. "Did you....is he still....alive?" The possibility made him feel ill.

 

Steve shook his head, finishing off and pulling out fresh bandages to dress the wound with. “Fury shot him.” he said quietly, wrapping Bucky’s leg with care. “Bastard was loyal to HYDRA till the end. But we got him.” He sighed heavily, frowning at the thought. 

 

Bucky didn't quite hear the rest, far too relieved with the fact that the man was dead. He'd had other commanders in the past, being woken up in different times for different assignments, but Pierce...he had been the worst. Or at least the worst one that Bucky could actually remember. Though he'd start out with calm words, it always ended in a rewipe as punishment, or stuck alone in isolation so that he could consider how kind HYDRA was to him if he was behaved. "Good. He deserved to die." He said with a bit of venom in his tone, eyes dulling a little as he watched the bandages wrap around the wound. "I just wish I'd been there to see it. Or even better- been the one to shoot him."

 

"I wish you had been." Steve mumbled in agreement, eyes narrowing a little as he just imagined the horrid things Pierce had done, and he honestly full-heartedly agreed that the man had had every ounce of pain he'd felt, coming for him. And to know that Pierce had had his hands on Bucky... The thought was infuriating.

 

Not wanting to dwell any longer on the thought of Pierce, knowing it would lead to some very dark places, Bucky cleared his throat, looking down at the new clean bandages. "You'll need to look at this next." He said, pulling off the dirty, torn hoodie he wore to reveal the even dirtier green shirt, little holes dotting along the collar and middle, though Bucky put the attention on his arm as he showed off the infected slash going from his elbow to his wrist, half of the wound already scabbed over and the other half open and oozing.

 

Steve cringed. "Geez, Buck." he breathed, pouring more disinfectant onto a new wipe. Taking his arm into his hands with great care, Steve began dabbing away at the wound. "Do you have a lot more like this? Because this is so..." He made a face. Of course, he knew Bucky had been...modified...to be practically immune to injuries like this, but it didn't mean it kept Steve from worrying.

 

"Only these," Bucky nodded his head, watching with disinterest as Steve dabbed at the wound. These had been by accident, and could have been much worse- the leg was from running from the hunting dogs HYDRA had sent out after him after he'd finally been caught lurking around their edges, and he had to admit, genetically modifying animals did most definitely make their bite worse than their bark. His arm....he didn't really remember what happened to his arm. His memory was faulty these days, probably a side effect of the rewipes. "Like I said- there's been worse. This isn't even that bad. Don't tell me you’re squeamish about a little infection," He gave a slight smile, the expression only feeling slightly unnatural.

 

Steve felt his chest warm at the smile, and shook his head, returning the expression. "No, but I am uncomfortable with you being this injured." he said quietly, finishing up. Rewrapping the gash, he gave a quiet sigh, looking over the man. "I think we should get you changed out of those clothes of yours."

 

Bucky looked down at himself and his ratty clothes, not really seeing the problem. Sure, they weren't the cleanest or the nicest, but they had survived through his travels this far, and that definitely meant something. But, all the same, he nodded his head in agreement, pausing for a moment and suddenly growing stiff, shuffling in his seat. "I, uh," The words caught in his throat on instinct, but Bucky swallowed back the usual barrier that held them in, keeping his eyes cast down. "I'd like....I want to take a shower. Or- something. If....that's alright."

 

Steve's smile widened, and he bit back a laugh. "Of course that's alright, Buck ." He was more than happy that Bucky was asking - it brought him a sense of relief. Even though it was apparent the man felt awkward about asking a favor of sorts, Steve felt like this was a large step forward in...rekindling, per say, their relationship. Or at least, it was the start of a new one. "C'mon, I'll get you set in the bathroom." He stood, offering a hand down to Bucky.

 

Bucky looked at the offered hand for a moment before taking it, bringing himself to his feet. It wasn't so much that he was awkward in asking- it was just unusual to ask at all. HYDRA never took requests; he couldn't ask for anything. He wasn't supposed to. He wasn't even aware he was able to. It was awkward for him to ask for anything now, even in the company of Steve. "Thanks," He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

Steve continued to beam at his friend. "No problem." he murmured, leading the man out of the room and into the adjacent bathroom. He pulled out some towels from the cabinet, and gestured towards the bath. "It’s all yours. Shampoo, bar soap, body wash, feel free to use whatever you want. I'll bring in a fresh change of clothes for you in a bit, and you can just leave yours...by the sink, or something. Sound good?"

 

Bucky nodded his head, looking around the bathroom. "Sounds good." He said, and without a moment’s hesitation, stripped himself of his shirt, placing it down on the sink before looking to Steve again, already undoing the zipper to his pants. "Is the one spy here? The...Black Widow? And is Director Fury still alive?" He questioned, pulling his trousers down to his ankles and placing them along with the shirt, still talking as he pulled down the dirtied pair of boxers. Modesty wasn't something he had a mind for- his handlers stripped him and clothed him when they liked, and the body wasn't something he remembered one should actually mind. Besides- he'd been in the military, right? Modesty wasn't something always required there, was it? "I was positive I had made a clear shot, but he's a slippery creature, from what I've learned."

 

Steve felt his face grow warm, and he had to tell himself that this wasn't weird - it really wasn't. They'd grown up together, been in the army together... Seeing Buck naked wasn't anything new. But... It felt like it was. The Bucky he remembered didn't look like...this. 

 

Shaking his head to clear it, he cleared his throat setting the towels down on the other side of the sink. "Yeah, Nat and Fury are here. Not exactly supposed to be a director anymore, but... Yeah." He gave a strangled chuckle. "Slippery indeed. He's not much easier to deal with on a daily basis." he joked.

 

Bucky gave a slight grin at that. "I want to talk with...Nat. I think- I think she might know something. I researched her, after all the information got out. She....she was in the Red Room. In Russia." He said, brows furrowing as he tried to get his mind to think a little clearer, putting a hand against the side of his head and frowning. "I think....I might've..." Bucky was silent for a moment before shaking his head with a huff. "...I just want to talk to her." Clearing his head, Bucky turned to the shower, turning it on and testing the water with a hand. "Who runs SHIELD now, if he's not the director?"

 

"I'll...ask Nat if she'll see you later." Steve said slowly. Considering it all, he was unsure if Nat would be entirely willing to talk to Bucky. Even if he trusted Bucky, she might not. "And SHIELD... isn't really SHIELD anymore. No one person manages us. We're the Avengers. We all keep each other in check. Or at least, we're supposed to." Steve said with a small shrug.

 

Bucky wasn't quite sure how that worked, but he hummed all the same, getting into the shower and letting his hair get wet before shaking it out like a dog. "Where are they, then? The other Avengers? You said that you had your new team here- where's the old ones?" He raised a brow, looking to his newly wrapped warm and leg and trying to keep them out of the waters spray as best as he could.

 

"Thor's gone back to Asgard, Tony's back at the Tower, Barton is with his family, and Banner is...." Steve sighed. "He's gone off the grid. Nat's taking it pretty hard, even though she doesn't want to admit it."

 

Bucky didn't really care for the personal detail, simply nodding his head and scrubbing at the dirt that seemed almost permanently painted on his skin. "What about you?" He asked next. "Don't you have a life you can get back to?" It seemed the others had taken the way out- so why hadn't Steve?

 

Steve offered a small but sad smile. "Honestly? Not really. After waking up from the ice, SHIELD is all I've known. I don't have a home or anything to return to." he admitted, absentmindedly holding out a loofa for Bucky.

 

"I understand," Bucky nodded his head a little sadly, because could understand that all too well. Raising a brow when the loofa was presented, he took it in hand, squirting some body wash onto himself before beginning to properly wash himself off. "So you're just here now, training, and that's it?"

 

"Pretty much," Steve murmured. "I don't have anything else..." It often made him rather envious of the rest of the team, who - for the most part - had someplace... And someone to go home to. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

 

"You could easily find someone," Bucky said plainly as he grabbed the shampoo, squirting it into his hand and pushing his fingers through his hair. "From what I've seen, you’re a popular choice in what people want." There had been plenty opinions of Steve on the internet, actually, though most of them were mainly just about his ass.

 

Steve made a face, and shook his head. "It’s not that easy." he sighed. Truth be told, he knew that he himself was making excuses. But he didn't know how to admit to himself that...well, those people who "wanted" him weren't people he wanted to want him. "I'm already disconnected from the times enough, y'know? I figure it’s first my duty to catch up." He shrugged.

 

"I guess I should try...catching up as well." Bucky grunted, because though he knew plenty about modern technology, he didn't understand a damn thing about the society. He didn't even remember the society of the time he'd really been born in, actually. "I don't understand how it'll be useful though."

 

"Well, it’s easier to function in these times if you understand stuff, right? Makes you feel not as out of place when someone makes a reference to Star Trek or Star Wars." Steve chuckled to himself.

 

Bucky simply grunted, unsure of what Star Trek or Star Wars even were, but he didn't ask. Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and cleaning himself off, he turned off the shower and stepped out, shaking his head and sprinkling water around before getting a towel, having the decency to at least wrap it around his waist. "Did you get me clothes?" He questioned with a raised brow, looking around to see if they were there.

 

"Shoot, sorry, I'll get 'em now." Steve said apologetically. Darting out of the bathroom, he went to his dresser and pulled out one of his shirts, a pair of pants, and -after some deliberation- a pair of boxers. Jogging back to Bucky, he held them out. "Hope these are okay...?"

 

"They're fine." He said with a nod, dropping the towel to take them in his hands and put them on the toilet, getting into the boxers first. "I'm guessing most of the people here are gonna want me to just stay cooped up here," Bucky said under his breath, tugging the pants up next. "I don't mind it, if that's what’s gonna happen." Being locked up in places was what he was used to, actually.

 

Steve blinked, Bucky's words tugging at his heartstrings and making his chest ache. "Probably," he agreed reluctantly, "But...what do  _ you _ want to do?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

 

Bucky paused at that, fingers tightening their hold on the shirt in his hands as he looked to Steve, frowning a little in confusion as his brows furrowed. "...I-I  don't understand the question."

 

This is what Steve had been dreading. Just how much of his free will did HYDRA beat out of him? Taking a slow breath, he tried to think of a way to rephrase without sounding accusatory. "You have a say in the matter. You can stay here,"  _ With me _ , Steve added silently, "Or you can walk out of here. No one will stop you. You get to choose."

 

Still a little confused and still barely understanding, Bucky looked down at his shirt, mouth forming a tight line as he tried to find a way to articulate himself properly. "....I came for for a reason. I need to know about my past. It's- I'm here now. I came here.  _ I  _ came here." He said with a little more power to his words, swallowing thickly and closing his eyes for a moment before he pulled the shirt on. "I'm staying."

 

The smile that had been desperate to appear on Steve's lips while Bucky collected himself finally became a grin as he made a decision. "I'm glad to hear it, Buck." he breathed, unable to stop himself from moving forward and wrapping his arms around his friend for a second time. He was more careful this time, knowing of the man's injuries.

 

Bucky instinctively stiffened when Steven brought his arms around him, but eased eventually, allowing the embrace and awkwardly trying to reciprocate it before it ended, gently rubbing his side when it had. "I think I should see someone about my ribs," He nursed the injuries there with a hand.

 

Steve smiled sheepishly, nodding. "I'll, uhhh, yeah, let's get that looked at." he muttered, stepping back. "Come on." he said, leading the way out of the room.

 

Bucky followed, hair damp and side hurting a bit, though all in all he was relatively fine. He easily ignored the others that they passed and their stares, simply looking ahead and keeping focused on the destination- even though he didn't even know where it was.

 

Steve glanced behind him every so often to make sure Bucky was close by him. The last thing he needed was for this man to get lost in this place, with a bunch of agents who probably had a vendetta or other against Bucky. 

Leading him down a few more hallways and stairs, Steve stopped briefly in front of the door to Dr. Cho's lab just long enough to scan his ID to get the doors to open. Beckoning for Bucky to follow, he strode in, looking around for the Korean doctor. Spotting her, he made his way over, zigzagging through the uneasy looking assistants. 

"Doctor Cho, I'd like to ask you to take a look at him. His ribs seem to be in bad shape, and I was hoping you could help him out." The doctor looked from Steve to the man behind him rather warily. She'd seen the news reports, and read the files on him. 

"He's HYDRA, isn't he?" she asked quietly, frowning. Steve refrained from raising his voice -- she didn't really have a way of knowing better. 

"He's not. Not anymore. He was once used by HYDRA, controlled and manipulated by forces out of his control." Steve said confidently with a shake of his head. Still looking tentatively at Bucky, she sighed and nodded concedingly. 

"Alright, this way." She led them further into the lab, and patted a cot for Bucky to lie down on. "Go ahead and lie down -- I want to get an x-ray first." 

 

Bucky stood by passively for the most part, not showing much of a reaction to what Steve said to the doctor, only clenching his jaw when she questioned if he was HYDRA. It remained clenched even as Steve explained exactly what had happened to him- what he'd been. He didn't offer input of any sort on the matter, knowing it was probably best for Steve to be the one to speak in this situation; it was easy to see he was making almost everyone in the room uneasy. His eyes snapped to the cot when Doctor Cho patted it, the man remaining still and stiff in his spot as he looked down at it. Of course, logically he knew that it wasn't the same as the cots he'd been put in before, strapped down by metal bands, but it seemed the same. Staring down at it blankly for another minute, knowing he must have somehow looked brain damaged for not obeying such a simple command when it had been given, Bucky finally gave a nod, stiffly moving down into the cot. Hyperaware of his surroundings, Bucky stared up to the ceiling, waiting for the doctor to proceed.

 

Steve went to stand beside Bucky, hoping to be of some comfort in this strange environment. Although he couldn't be sure, he felt like he recognized the expression that had flitted across the man's face when he'd looked down at the cot -- it was like he wasn't seeing this cot, but another one, one that filled him with fear. Again, he wasn't sure, but if Bucky was seeing some sort of HYDRA lab again...

Dr. Cho carted over a large machine, carefully attaching it to the cot. Clipping on several arm pieces, the cot was looking more like an MRI machine was being built around Bucky.

 

Bucky remained still even as the new machinery was being hooked up, flesh hand clenching at his side though the metal one remained open, waiting for the process to begin- whatever it even was. He didn't look too panicked, though perhaps his blank mask wasn't the best thing either, the dullness of his expression probably what was setting some of the assistants off as they came to help Dr. Cho. He was sure someone was talking, saying something about fractures and bruising or something of that nature, but it was hard to hear once the machine started up, humming silently as it scanned over him. He tensed instinctively, eyes shooting around the area, metal fingers twitching. This wasn't HYDRA- he knew that. This wasn't HYDRA. He  _ knew  _ that.  _ This wasn't- _

His vision turned red once a hand came into view, his own prosthetic one shooting out to wrap around someone’s throat, shooting up and ignoring the pain in his side as his grip tightened to bruise. White walls and bright lights blinded him, leaving him dazed and confused but determined all the same. He had a mission. More than a mission. A gift to mankind. Something that would shape the century. The greatest weapon to HYDRA. His arm lifted higher, the man unaware he had even stood up as his hand went to crush, to damage, to break; strangled little gasps of someone obviously weaker than him passed over his ears, but that just meant he was winning;  _ Pierce  _ was the one who was losing, who deserved to lose, who deserved to  _ die.  _ But this wasn't Pierce. 

The purple face of an assistant finally became clear, Bucky keeping his hold for a second longer before dropping him, backing away shakily and looking down at his hand with horror. "Sorry- I'm sorry.....I- I didn't mean to...." He scrambled for words, glancing to the man he'd just nearly strangled to death, head snapping to the door at the sight of the agents standing there, already armed and ready to shoot. Bucky raised his hands, shaking his head, moving back and startling himself when he rammed into equipment, sending parts scattering to the floor.

 

Steve had seen the change in Bucky and hadn't even been able to stop it. He hadn't been able to prevent what he should have foreseen as a potential result. Screams and yelling echoed through the lab, assistants and agents running every which way when Bucky picked the man up by the throat, and Steve had desperately tried to talk Bucky out of wherever his mind had taken him back to, but it was obvious from his eyes that it wasn't working. And Steve couldn't get the grip of the metal arm to loosen a bit. By the time Bucky finally came out of it, Steve was the only one anywhere near the man, save the assistant Bucky had almost killed. And in this situation...it would be incredibly hard to make anyone trust Bucky again. He knew that everyone had had a good reason to distrust him to begin with, but now... It wouldn't be a crazy thought if Bucky was killed right here and now. Not after the aggression and hostility he had just shown. But Steve couldn't just let that happen. Once again putting himself between his own agents and his friend, directly in the line of fire, he spread his arms. "Don't shoot." He somehow managed to keep his voice even, and commanding.

 

Bucky was too busy trying to blubber apologies to really notice Steve's actions, fingers tugging at his hair as people hurriedly pulled the assistant away from him to look check his injuries. "Captain Rogers, I'd advise you to step out of the way," One of the agents said, stepping further into the room, none of the others behind him putting their weapons down. The situation itself was horrible, but it was made just a bit worse with the fact that Bucky had yet to properly calm down, still looking too manic for anyone to be comfortable. "Your judgements been compromised, we need to-"

 

"Move." Natasha physically pushed the agent out of the way, not even seeming to care for the bewildered look as she moved past them, then past Steve, going straight to Bucky. Of course she was wary; she'd be an idiot not to be. But she wasn't going to shoot him (anywhere that would be fatal, of course). Standing only a few feet away from the shaking man, Natasha remained calm, looking over his form before speaking. "Кто ты?" She questioned, a few agents raising brows at the Russian that came through. 

 

Freezing for a moment, Bucky swallowed, continuing to shake as he held his head in his hands, looking to Natasha with caution. "I- I don't-"

 

"Кто ты?" She said again, the question having enough force to sound more like a command. 

 

Bucky swallowed again, staring blankly at the ground. "Никто." He answered hollowly, the question one that had been ingrained after being asked so many times. He still didn't quite stop trembling. 

 

Natasha paused before seeming to soften at least a little, gaze not quite as intense as it had been. "Я не прошу, кто они сказали, что вы есть. Я спрашиваю, кто вы знаете, вы находитесь." She cocked a brow at Bucky, who kept his stare to the ground. "Так кто ты?" 

 

Bucky didn't answer for a moment, mouth forming a thin line as he willed himself to stop trembling, licking his lips nervously as his eyes flicked across the floor as he thought before he hesitantly looked up to the spy, confusion and worry that he would answer wrong clear on his expression. "..... Джеймс Барнс?" He said quietly, unsure for a moment before he seemed to solidify the answer for himself, nodding his head in confirmation to no one in particular. "Да. Я.....Джеймс Барнс." He kept nodding, folding his hands together as he seemed to get a better grip on himself. 

 

Natasha nodded in response before turning back to look at Steve. "He'll be fine for now."

 

Steve didn't have the slightest idea of what had transpired, but could only be grateful for Nat's intervening. "Th-thanks..." he stammered, blinking rapidly. Glancing at the other agents who looked just as bewildered as he felt, he cleared his throat and nodded once for no particular reason before turning to face the men properly. "Right. So. Agent Romanoff seems to have gotten this under control..." he said slowly, looking from the agents to Bucky to Nat.

 

Looking between Steve, Natasha, and Bucky, slowly the agents put away their weapons, still looking cautious of the man, but not pointing guns at him all the same, slowly retreating at the look Nat gave them before the assistants and doctors had the mind to clear the room, because even if Bucky seemed stable it would be best to just play it safe. She didn't even glance at Steve before putting her attention back on Bucky, who seemed to be examining his prosthetic hand with some sense of neutrality, but she knew better than to think it was simply that. "Who did you see, when you attacked?" She asked calmly, near to casually. 

 

"Pierce," He said quietly, not looking up. "It was....it was Pierce."

 

Anger flared up in Steve, which he quickly quelled and replaced with regret that he'd ever let this happen, however unknowingly. It would do Bucky no good for Steve to get angry at a dead man. He knew he needed to focus on the now. Still, he couldn't help the quiet "Bucky..." that slipped out.

 

Bucky felt shame crawl over the back of his neck at the soft word, shutting his eyes tightly as he let out a harsh breath. "I know he's dead.  _ I know.  _ But it was just...." He struggled to find a way to explain, something that could help excuse his actions, but there was nothing. "It was....I understand if no one’s willing to trust me, especially after that." He said after a moment, looking down at the floor, not wanting to see Steve's face of pity or anger or disappointment. Swallowing thickly, Bucky tried to think of something else to say, something better, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. "....I'm sorry."

 

Steve sighed softly. He really didn't feel like Bucky needed to apologize, but it was a little relieving that the man did so nonetheless. Steve understood where he was coming from, though. He knew firsthand how vivid flashbacks could be. He knew how hard it was to cope with them. "Buck..." he moved a little closer and put a hand on his shoulder. He struggled to find something to say for a moment. "I know what it’s like. And I know that it’s not your fault. I'm sorry that we couldn't protect you from that bastard. But we're gonna take responsibility." he said gently. He wasn't angry at Bucky. How could he be? This was really SHIELD's fault. It had been SHEILD that had allowed HYDRA to grow within it. It was SHEILD that had ultimately allowed this to happen to Bucky. If he was angry, he was angry with himself for letting this happen, however unknowingly.

 

Bucky remained still as Steve placed the hand on his shoulder, hesitantly looking at him as he spoke. The words didn't ease his guilt any, but it at the very least comforted him in the fact that they were likely going to take that responsibility by wiping out HYDRA (and if he could have a hand in it, he would be  _ very  _ pleased). Giving a small nod, Bucky looked over Steve's face a moment before looking away, folding his hands in front of him mainly because he just didn't want to fidget. After a minute of discomfort with the current situation, he cleared his throat a little, shuffling a small bit. "I...uh, I think I need some food." He said with a little grimace; he needed it as well as wanted it, but  _ wanting  _ wasn't good to say. Things were only necessary when needed; not wanted.

 

“It’s getting late. Painkillers and a meal might do him some good.” Nat said flatly. “Take him back up to your room already, I’ll bring you food there.” she said. Steve gave her a grateful look. It was obvious that the base would be buzzing with the news of the latest outburst of this supposed HYDRA agent, and there was no telling how the agents here would handle another unfortunate flashback here. At least if they were up in Steve’s room, they could be assured that he at least would be able to detain the soldier if the need truly arose. 

 

Bucky didn’t feel the need to respond, though he did incline his head to Nat in the slightest nod of thanks. If medicine could take the dull pain away, it was as good as being healed. 

 

Together, the two men headed back to Steve’s quarters, and thankfully they didn’t encounter any protesting SHIELD agents along the way. Nat might’ve had something to do with that, but Steve really couldn’t be bothered to confirm. “I’m sorry, Buck.” he said quietly when they were in the safety of his room once more. 

 

Bucky blinked. Why was Steve apologizing to him?  _ He _ was the one that had gone berserk because he lost his grip.  _ He _ was the one that had nearly killed the medical assistant. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked after a long moment.  _ He _ should be the one apologizing. He knew what Steve was risking in trusting him, and he had made it very clear that not even he had control over himself. Surely there was only so much the super soldier’s words would do before the authorities stepped in to detain Bucky. “I’m sorry.” he said. He tried to continue, to explain just what he was sorry for, but the words wouldn’t come. He found himself wringing his hands, a nervous tic he’d never seen in himself before. 

 

Steve looked up, surprised, but his features softened immediately. He said nothing, but made his way over to his friend, and carefully put a hand on the man's shoulder. He looked Bucky in the eye meaningfully, and offered a small smile. 

 

Bucky was unable to return the tentative smile, but met Steve's gaze evenly, before turning his eyes to the hand on his shoulder. The firm, warm palm sent a strange sense of relief through him, though he himself didn't know what he was relieved about. But yet, the gesture moved something deep inside of him, and when he looked back to meet Steve's gaze once more, he didn't doubt the affection he found in those eyes. He may no longer be James Barnes that Steve grew up with, but Steve accepted that. And maybe - just maybe - that was okay. 


End file.
